Smallville. Oh, Smallville, I fought you in the beginning, but you were my only form of entertainment for the 2 1/2 weeks we spent waiting for our FiOs hookup. Now you are all I think about.
The color of the baby’s room. It’s called Vintage Orange. People doubted us, but OMG it looks so happy.
Cinnamon toast. No explanation needed.
Our new quiet street. Remember all of those posts about incessant barking? Shooter barely makes a peep all day, what with the lack of constant riffraff outside our door.
That it’s September. That means it’s almost fall, which means it’s almost my birthday, which is just a few weeks before the wee babe makes his/her arrival.
Today our friend Mark came over to look at the baby’s room so he can start planning for the spectacular and wonderful mural he will be painting on the wall.
This facial cleanser. It seems to be only thing keeping my angry, pregnant skin under control.
My new, luxurious diaper bag, graciously given to us by my wonderful mother-in-law. Now I will just stare at it for fourth months until I actually need it.
This blog. It actually makes me excited about moving (if that ever happens).
This short-lived TV show. I now understand what everyone was saying about James Franco this whole time.
As I’m in my second trimester, I’m finally letting myself think about what “stuff” we need for this kid here. We’ve already gotten a couple items from the grandmas, as seen here:
Please note the teeny tiny onesies in the front. SO SMALL.
Anyway, I’ve allowed myself to browse a bit, particularly on Etsy. Chances are, we won’t be able to afford any of what I like, but it’s nice to see people moving past the whole pastel and cartoon character motif.
Just some of the sweet, Etsy goodness that you are all more than welcome to send us…
Ross hates NPR. Hates it. I know. It’s something about the sound bytes when they’re reporting on things like coal mines in West Virginia - they must always read a few lines and then cue a clip of pick axes cling-clanging to “for ambiance.” It doesn’t bother me, but it sends him into a rant. We try to just not talk about it.
But, I love NPR. I think it stems from the fact that my dad loves NPR. When I hear the Lake Wobegon bit on A Prairie Home Companion, I think of riding in the car with my dad as we made the every-other-weekend switch when I was in middle school.
When I leave work, I try listening to music, but it’s just too much stimulus for my introverted brain. I need soothing voices and intelligent conversation, however pretentious it may seem to some people. I know that during that 15-minute ride, NPR will remind that good books do matter and there are things more important out there than the state of my kitchen. And I’ll be honest, the “Bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-buuuuuum” of All Things Considered sends a rush of relaxation through my bones that is currently unmatched by any other sound.
So, I guess I’m trying to say that I will gladly take a Nina Totin’ Bag if you care to send one.
I’m loving the Shop Local option on Etsy. Not that I can buy anything, but it’s nice to know that I would have the option of getting goodies from creative people in the RVA.
Here are a couple sweet little things I’ve found should you, oh I don’t know, want to send me a present for being so darn charming…
Ross and I both have nasal issues throughout most of the year. I sniff from about October to March and Ross takes over for spring and summer as he deals with his allergies. Consequently, we are a very congested couple. IT CAN’T ALL BE GLAMOR AND STYLE, KIDS.
Thankfully, my mother-in-law (who is always up on the trends of most things) recommended this to us:
Yes, that would be an Ayr Saline Nasal Rinse Kit. I bet you didn’t know rinsing your nasals was an option, but alas, it is!
This kit is magical. It is mystical. It is a miracle in a wee cardboard box. Let me tell you how it works…
First, fill the spray bottle (think of a miniature sports bottle) with warm water.
Pour in one of the saline packets of wonder.
Shake the bottle to mix it up.
Lean over the sink and open your mouth. For real.
Stick the spout of the bottle in one of your nostrils.
Squeeze the bottle semi-hard.
Feel the saline wonder pass through your sinus and out of your other nostril (and maybe your mouth).
Breathe fully for the first time probably in your entire life.
Send me a note apologizing for the judgment you passed while reading this post and thanking me for being the sage that I am.
Best Diarist “I feel like I know Valerie like a best friend. I think if I saw her in Ukrop’s, I’d be compelled to ask how Ross’s birthday was. Does she have a clue who I am? No.”
